Demons
by Rothalion
Summary: heath introduces his demons to the Barkleys


Demons

"You do good job hidin' it from 'em, boy; but not me!."

"Hidin' what Nick?" Heath asked with the air of an innocent boy as he stirred the beans. "Hand me those Chiles, will ya Nick?"

"Chilies in your beans, whod'a guessed it?" He placed the three small peppers down in front of Heath, watched him deftly dice them up before adding them to the broiling pot; then with a grunt and a grimace he went back to stacking the pile of firewood he'd gathered. Chiles and beans, he only wanted supper; not to create some gastronomical bomb.

Chilies aside the big man was annoyed. Heath had only spoken when spoken to for the better part of three days now and Nick was bursting at the seams to find out just why the younger man or how the younger man managed to stay so quiet. He tossed a look over his shoulder at his newfound brother. 'You always seem so intent on what ever task you do boy. No matter how trivial.' He admired that. Heath's meticulous care with all that he touched. Just as now, how he squatted, still as a deer having scented danger, but for his gentle stirring of the bean pot, and careful rotating the brace of rabbits on the spit he'd fashioned. No hurry about his actions, just patiently waiting, letting the fire do its work.

"Don't burn the rabbits. Didn't bust my butt gettin' 'em to have'm sizzled to a crisp."

"I won't, Nick."

Now there it was again! That almost sing song voice of a small boy. Nick couldn't resist. "And why, why Heath do you sound so damn childlike sometimes?"

At that Heath looked up. Reaffirming Nick's assessment. His brother's face bore the empty slate of innocence. The blonde hair, the clear blue engaging, inquisitive eyes…to look at the man just then you'd never guess the life he suffered. Nick shook his head at the sight wishing that he'd been given a chance to have known Heath the boy; Heath the innocent. For his part the young man paused in his careful stirring of Chilied beans and spinning of the spit. Childlike, he'd never really considered himself as childlike yet he figured there must be something to it. Others had accused him of it. Granted he was still trying to find a foothold with his new family and had to admit to not really knowing any of them just yet; six months wasn't a long time when it came to building relationships, not for a man who'd spent the better part of his life alone. Yet Nick, loud, brash, rough around the edges Nick, had managed to poke Heath where it hurt. Childlike…he felt invaded upon somehow. Childlike…how could _he_ of all people be childlike? God knew that he'd been raped of his childhood, so how was it that some vestige of that innocence managed to sneak through his armor. How was it that Nick of all people, oafish and crass as he so often seemed to be had noticed what only the gentlest souls in Heath's life had managed to take note of?

"You think that pony a yours will be fit by morning boy?" Nick asked tersely hands on his hips trying his best to glower at the younger man. At this point, after three silent days he was willing accept even a screaming fight over Heath's seemingly resolute silence.

Heath looked over at the Modoc tethered nearby then up at Nick. His crystalline blue eyes lit only by the fire light, sparked letting Nick see his annoyance and anger at the question. Nick flinched a bit and furrowed up his brow. 'Not so childlike now, hanh big brother Nick?' Heath thought to himself. For six months he'd been riding side by side with Nick, day in and day out and still the stubborn cowboy could manage naught but disdain for Heath's spirited little horse. All things being equal, childlike or not, Nick's disdain for Gal above all else that Nick Barkley did irked Heath the most.

"As fit as that spoiled, pomp and prance carcass _you _call a cowpony Barkley. Supper's done; enjoy it."

Then he was gone. Gone like the wispy scent of Jasmine on a cool spring night. One moment choking your senses and in the next, as the finicky breeze shifts gone; leaving you to wonder if it was ever really there, if you'd truly smelled it. How the boy had managed it baffled Nick. Sure the light from the fire cast a circle maybe sixteen paces wide, but Heath had in five quick paces fled the light and vanished into the pitch black wood line.

"Heath boy! Damn it come on back. Leave me with Chilies in my beans and enough rabbit for two! Heath! Boy, I am warning you, you silent son of a…Heath Barkley! If you do not come back to this camp…" The Modoc whinnied loud and shrill and Nick turned to the sound just in time to see Heath swing onto the mares bare back and whirl away into the night. "Great, just great, fantastic, fine! Go on off in the damn dark with out gear or supper or…just do it boy! Just go! Think I'm gonna worry about you? Hahn! You gotta be stupid boy, plumb daft! Heath!…"

Disgusted once again with his ineptness at handling Heath, Nick settled down to eat, only now the silence was a crushing weight on his heart.

"So brother Nick, just what is it I am so good at hidin from them?"

Nick jumped. He shot from dozing to nearly awake in a an instant. "Heath." the startled man rasped. "Wasn't asleep. Was waiting for you."

"Hmph..I see that. Kept the fire burning. Foolish thing Barkley. I shot you… oh say fifteen twenty times in the last hour. Bad habit bright fires. Snipers _love_ even the tiniest bit of light. A cigar or cigarette. Smoking could be the death of you. Was the death of many a man I watched enjoy a final taste of tobacco."

"Heath. Food's warm, kept it warm." Nick mumbled shaking his head trying to clear the cobwebs. "Beans, the beans loved 'em the chilies were good Heath." He'd been more asleep than he'd figured. "Foolish…sure…Damn I aint never loved your beans before boy."

It was then he truly noticed the man before him; noticed that Heath had Gal saddled and ready to ride, just off to his right. Noticed that the young man was squatting with his rifle across his dead level knees, noticed that there was nothing childlike about the boy's countenance now. Noticed that the innocent, inquisitive smile had been replaced by a feral smirk.

"Heath. Hide?…Damn it boy you are the strangest man I've ever crossed paths with! Put the rifle away. Unsaddle your pony, and well, please eat damn it. You gotta be starved."

"No deal. Been far more hungry before. What am I hiding Nick Barkley?"

Nick studied Heath then. Maybe for the first time since they'd met the burly rancher truly studied the boy. The rancher wasn't stupid, and was not a poor judge of character so what he saw and registered before him frightened him to the core. Heath was a killer. Nick sat up, then stood up. "I need a drink boy." He muttered trying to seem bold when in fact he was more frightened then he could ever recall being. Gunfire he'd faced, outlaws he'd faced but the cold pragmatism that Heath radiated about killing chilled the big rancher to the bone. "The rifle, Heath boy, please set it aside." He said evenly keeping his back to the brother he wanted only to trust implicitly yet now was afraid he could not. This was not _their_ Heath, this was the Heath from Stamply's farm, before their Heath returned from the task of killing and with trembling hands tried to roll a cigarette. This was the devil may care train racing Heath that Jarrod had observed…this was the Heath his gut instinct had warned him about.

Nick was no fool. Violence bred violence and Heath had been raised in a cycle of violence unimaginable to a civilized mind. Reared on a diet of anguish at home, then trained, while still a boy, to go forward and numb himself to his task at hand in the Army as a sniper, then tossed into Carterson and made a victim of even far more unspeakable horrors Heath was a perfect picture of the walking wounded. Nick had worried over this very thing when his gentle mother had agreed to accept the wayward man into their lives. Worried that Heath would never be able to settle down and live without needing an outlet for that violence. He'd seen men like Heath before. Broken men who could just never really gentle themselves again after surviving such brutality. He worried, despite Heath's even, quiet manner that the young man was a time bomb waiting to explode.

"What do I hide so well Barkley?" It was a sing song request, sing song and laced with malice.

Nick sighed, saddened that Heath's voice had once again for the first time in months taken on the syrupy psuedo southern drawl that indicated his contempt for the person he was addressing. He closed his eyes, looked up blindly at the starlit sky and breathed in a huge breath of nigh time air. An owl screeched, and at first he only smelled the waning fire. Then pine and beans, and leather. Then his own sweat. Opening his eyes he saw Orion twinkling above. His father's favorite constellation. Orin the hunter, how often had the two of them tracked the mighty star man across the night sky. A bat flittered past then another, their shrill chatter whisked away by the light breeze. Nick let that breeze wash across his sweaty face, wicking the perspiration away, he let the smell of pine calm him. Bending down he took the aged Brandy from his saddle bag, took a large swallow then turned to face Heath.

"That's Orion." He hefted the bottle toward the night sky. "Our, your father's favorite constellation. The hunter. See it Heath."

"Hiding? What am I hiding that only you can see Nick!?"

Maybe it was that singular shot of Brandy that emboldened Nick, maybe it was stupidity or bravery or despite his unwillingness to admit it love. But Nicholas Barkley burst out laughing. He regretted it as soon as the odd spasm occurred…but it was too late. Heath leveled the rifle at his chest and levered a round into the chamber.

"You are a hunter of souls Heath. You feel like you stole them don't you boy? All those targets, all those smoking men…all those souls."

" No… was a job. Fed Mama. Why do you mock me Barkley? What do I hide from them?"

"Yourself! But why…Why do you hide Heath Barkley Why not boast as Orion the mighty hunter does of your prowess?" Nick knew the answer to his question now. Heath had given it up, bit by bit. He'd just never taken time to notice it before. "What are you really hunting for?" He swaggered toward Heath…"Wealth, a name? That was your reason 6 months; ago a name boy…what does Orion hunt? What are you hunting Heath? Love! Put the damn rifle down!" Nick watched Heath blink and then stand. "Boy… Put-the-rifle-down!" Then rapidly…"Stand down now private! Stand down!"

Heath dropped to his knees as if struck by a board. The stern command crossed all the barriers of Heath's resolve. Nick's voice, pitched as that of a commander, had shut the boy down.

"I hear you at night Heath." Nick knelt in front of the stricken man. "Our rooms are side by side and despite your _gag _I hear you screaming." He reached out took the rifle, ejected the chambered round and set the weapon aside. "I _hear_ you. I see you every day dealing with people and circumstances. I see the trembling, I see the fear in your eyes, I see the….dullness that comes and mutes the brilliant damn blue of your eyes. I see you slip away to where ever the hell your mind takes you…every day I see the fear you live with. They don't. They don't because Heath they can't bear to feel the pain of it; but boy I have grown to love you, you silent son of a…and I feel it, your pain, every bit as much as you do. I…God help me Heath I just cannot go with you when you disappear to that place! I may as well be trying to hunt with Orion! Lord knows I wish I could boy. I wish I could follow you there but I can't! Three damn days now you've been gone from me…Three days! A night of nightmares and now three days you've been gone! And chilies in my beans…let me in, let me help. Stop hiding your pain…let me in! Damn it boy, I swear Heath you…your two different men. The man tonight who'd have killed me a heartbeat and your Heath my brother. My blue eyed baby brother robbed of his childhood."

"She's a good pony my Modoc."

"Yes Heath, Gal is that."

"Its damned hard to forget Nick."

"I know." Nick fought to keep his voice from breaking.

"Don't really know any better way… then to hide the hurt. Mother…mother can never know Nick please…" Heath's desperation tore at Nicks heart.

"Heath boy, she's a damn strong woman our mother, you could due with a bit of her lovin'. When we get back…no more gags when you sleep boy. You have a nightmare, the whole house is gonna know. Got me…"

Heath looked up at Nick. Innocent again, the furies having left him. He'd come so close to killing. Killing over a slight to his horse. Not the first time and probably not the last…but at least he had Nick to temper his frustration and a family to sooth his spirit. Yes he had hidden from them the pain in his heart…he'd instead portrayed an innocent, childlike man, more tired really than angry about the course his short life had taken. He simply hadn't figured that the gruffest, staunchest opponent to his claim to his name, to his happiness would be the first one to topple his walls and lead him from the darkness of his childhood and into the light.

"Your exhausted Heath boy. You haven't slept proper in days. Years maybe. Lets get you to bed."

Heath couldn't deny Nick's matter of fact assessment of his state. Exhausted was putting things lightly. If not for his pony's awareness of her rider's well being Heath would have fallen from the saddle a day and a half ago.

"You'll be near by?" he whispered, his energy all but gone.

"Always little brother, always."

"The nightmares Nick…"

Nick sighed…he had his demons that he faced about the war, but nothing to compare to Heath's. "War's a man's game boy. You were not ready, not ready…it was hell to pay and now you pay again; but I'm here for you. I'll help you pay the piper."

"Not just that Nick…Gods I am so tired, feel like I lived a thousand, thousand, thousand years…It's Strawberry too. The hell of that town…may be worse than the war even."

He slumped forward then into Nick's arms. Giving in to his exhaustion. Nick hefted him up and settled the sleeper gently on his bedroll. Morning was not far off, but the hardened cowboy knew that come sunup camp would not be broken, that the fences would wait and that together as brothers the two men would rest and come to terms with the events of a night fraught with demons.


End file.
